


JWP 2019 #9: On Your Left

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Bad Guys Being Bad, Gen, Prompt Fic, Watson being Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 17:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19749997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: Watson is in a tight spot. Written for JWP 2019 #9.





	JWP 2019 #9: On Your Left

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Random snippet. Written in a huge rush. You have been warned.

I knew I did not have much time before I was discovered. The room was small, and ill-furnished; there was no place for me to attempt to conceal myself. The window, partially blocked by an enormous ragged laurel, was too small to fit myself through, and too far off the ground to be safe even if I could squeeze out. But the bright-green leaves gave me an idea.  
  
All too soon, I heard the door open. I was tensed for a fight, however futile it might be. All thoughts of resistance fled when I saw Lord Patrick with his hand clamped firmly on his young nephew’s shoulder. The young boy looked terrified as he was unceremoniously bundled into the room, as well he might.   
  
“Ah, Doctor Watson, there you are,” Lord Patrick drawled, as if we had just encountered each other in a crowded drawing-room. “I’m afraid I must ask you to come with me. My nephew requires your attendance. I’m afraid the events of the day have been too much for him.”  
  
I smiled at the boy, trying to relieve some of his fear. “I am happy to help you however I can,” I told him sincerely.  
  
“Hm.” Lord Patrick jerked his head, indicating I should precede him through the door. Several large men awaited me, as I suspected they might, and lost no time in seizing me. I twisted just enough to keep an eye on Lord Patrick as he swiftly scanned the room, searching for any signs I might have left behind. He stooped and picked up the small stack of coins I had left by the doorframe, never loosening his grip on the boy as he did so. “Waste not, want not,” he said with a smirk. “Let us be on our way.”  
  
Distracted by the coins, he never saw the slight lines drawn on the casing of the window. He certainly never looked out to see my fountain-pen, with its concealed message inside, wedged firmly between two of the tangled branches.   
  
I felt confident that Holmes would prove more observant.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 9, 2019. My object was a window, with a big, overgrown laurel hedge visible outside the glass.


End file.
